


Lizzie with an E

by serindipitysays



Category: Lizzie McGuire (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21775906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serindipitysays/pseuds/serindipitysays
Summary: The flu has been knocking out students one by one at Hillridge High. When Lizzie McGuire falls ill the only one that seems to be able to make her feel better is her best friend, David Gordon. As they read through the story of 'Anne of Green Gables' together questions are asked and finally, after seventeen years, some answers may finally be uncovered.
Relationships: David "Gordo" Gordon/Lizzie McGuire
Comments: 18
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh, my poor girl.” Jo McGuire cooed over her daughter as she rubbed the girl's back. “I hate seeing you like this.”

Lizzie McGuire finished spitting into the bucket beside her bed and laid her head against the pillows once more. “I hate feeling like this.” She muttered, her voice hoarse and pathetic even to her own ears. “I’m going to kill ‘em.” She declared with an exhausted sigh.

“Kill who, honey?” Her mother asked as she pulled the trash bag from the bucket and tied it closed.

“Whoever did this to me. I’ll kill ‘em.” Lizzie repeated as she took the cool washcloth that her mother was holding out to her. “Patient Zero. If this flu doesn’t kill them, I will.”

Her mother laughed as she moved the hand Lizzie was holding the cloth with towards her forehead. “Hold it there. I’ll be right back.”

Lizzie nodded, instantly regretting the movement as her vision blurred and her stomach churned. She unfolded the washcloth and spread it over her forehead and eyes. Yep, she’d kill whoever it was that started this alright. And then she’d get the whole city quarantined and sanitized before anyone stepped back into that petri-dish they called a high school.

She ran the tip of her tongue against her teeth and winced at the taste and feel of her most recent bout of sickness. With a shaking hand she reached towards her bedside table where a glass of water was waiting. Water had been the only thing she’d managed to hold down for the last twelve hours and she was thankful for the bit of relief it provided. Well, at least until the last few moments. She felt the brush of cool glass against her fingertips and reached out just a little further. Unfortunately, she knew immediately that she’d reached too far as she accidentally pushed the glass towards the edge of the table.

“No, wait!” A voice exclaimed from across the room. “Let me get that for you.”

Her arm dropped instantaneously as a wave of exhaustion hit her. It felt as if she had been fighting against sandbags tied to her limbs. Every movement a struggle. Every head nod, itch, even breath she took, seemed to deplete what little energy she had remaining within her body. With a groan she pulled the cool cloth away from her face and looked up into a pair of kind, gentle blue eyes. Despite her misery she felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips.

“Gordo, what are you doing here?” She attempted to push herself up into a seated position but he laid a gentle palm against her shoulder and pushed her back into her pillows.

“Down, sicko. Your mom gave me explicit instructions that I was allowed in here but only if you stayed in bed.” He pulled her desk chair across the floor and settled himself into it beside her bed. 

With a hand far more steady than hers he picked up the glass of water again and held it out to her. She attempted to lift a hand to the glass but the sandbags were heavier now. She wondered why Gordo couldn’t see them, their ropes pulling relentlessly at her joints as she tried to move. She shook her head slightly, “Nah, I’m okay.”

Gordo rolled his eyes and moved the chair closer to her. “Here. I’ll help you.”

She hesitated for a moment, hating the idea of making him help her with such a simple task but the taste in her mouth was making her feel sick again and she didn’t quite have the strength or motor skill to hold the drink herself. She nodded briefly, grimacing once more at the movement.

The position was awkward but she managed to lift her head up just enough for Gordo to hold the glass against her lips and slowly let her drink. First she swished away the taste in her mouth before taking a longer, more refreshing sip. When her head began to fall back to the pillow Gordo moved the glass away. 

“Better?”

“Thank you.” She said softly, taking a few deep breaths to settle her stomach before turning her head to face him fully. “So, I ask again, what are you doing here?”

He placed the glass on her bedside table and turned to pick up the backpack he’d dropped at the foot of her bed. “You weren’t at school today and I got, you know, worried I guess. The flu seems to be taking a shot at everyone and I figured you were next on its hit list.” He dropped his head and began to dig through his bag. Lizzie could have sworn she saw a bit of pink touching his cheeks as he turned out of her line of sight. “I figured I’d stop by on my way home. And, um, make sure you’re okay.”

Lizzie smiled softly at him, at least, she hoped it was a smile. She felt as if there was a decent lag between what her brain wanted to do and what her body was capable of right now. “That’s really sweet.” She said quietly. Yes, there it was, that was definitely a blush across the boy’s cheeks. “So, how is Miranda?”

“Fine. Yeah, she’s fine. She said she’d call you later to check in on you.” Gordo finally found what he’d been searching for in his bag and pulled out a couple sheets of paper and a book. “Seems she and I are some of the few that are staying ahead of this thing.”

“Good. I hate seeing you sick.” Lizzie murmured around a yawn. Gordo looked up at her then, a shadow of a smile tugging at his lips. It was something small, just a slight turn up at the corners, but it seemed to extend beyond that. Like his whole body softened in that one moment. Over the years he’d sent this smile in her direction many times and truth be told, it frustrated her. After seventeen years of friendship she thought she could figure out every expression her best friend made but there were still a few out there that needed a name. This was one of those.

She cleared out her throat with a quiet cough before nodding to the papers and book in his hand. “So, what’s all that?”

Gordo held out the stack as if to give it to her before realizing she couldn’t take it. “I uh, I brought you your homework.”

Lizzie groaned and lifted the cool washcloth back up over her eyes once more. “You’re supposed to be making me feel better, Gordo. Not worse.”

The cloth was pulled away from her eyes and she glared at Gordo’s sheepish look as he placed in on the bedside table. “It’s not that bad. Isn’t it better to try to get some work done while you’re stuck in bed rather than on a day you’re healthy and you’d rather be outside or at the mall with Miranda?”

Lizzie grumbled something incoherent and she even wondered if they were words herself but she glared at him with a look that clearly said “Fair point.” His smile brightened as he picked up the first sheet of paper.

“You didn’t have anything from Econ but Peters did give us some worksheets for Biology. You also have some for your Sociology class.” He placed them one after the other onto the bedside table. “And your English teacher is a funny one, isn’t she? She said you’re excused from all of the normal work but that she’s assigning anyone that’s sick a book to read. She said it’s what her mother used to do when she was ill as a kid.”

“A book?” Lizzie glanced between him and the book in his hand incredulously. “I have to read a whole book? I don’t even have the energy to hold a book right now. How is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Gordo just shrugged and turned it around so she could see the cover. She groaned again as she closed her eyes and imagined hiding her head under the pillows. “Anne of Green Gables? Couldn’t she have picked something from this century?”

He turned the book back towards him and flipped through a couple of pages. “It’s supposed to be a classic. My mother loves it.”

“So does mine. Pretty sure that means I’m not supposed to.”

Gordo chuckled as he continued to flip through the pages. “I don’t think you’re required to love it. You’re just required to read it.”

“It’s not bad enough I’ve been puking my guts out for twelve hours but now the torture is extended to having to read that? Teachers really are cruel.”

Gordo grimaced as he looked down at the empty bucket beside her bed. “Thank you for that lovely image.”

Lizzie chuckled, more a short exhalation of breath than anything else. “If I wasn’t so tired I’d smack you.” With a groan she attempted to roll over onto her side but couldn’t quite get the momentum. She jumped as she felt a cool hand against her elbow helping her roll over.

“You okay?” Gordo asked, worry clear in his voice as he searched her face.

“Yeah, just, trying to get comfortable.” She settled back against the pillow once she'd managed to turn over onto her side. She cradled her cheek in the palm of her hand and pulled her knees up closer to her chest. A wave of exhaustion washed over her and for a moment she closed her eyes and willed the feeling away. She didn’t want to fall asleep, not just yet. When she opened her eyes again she was surprised to see Gordo watching her, his own worried gaze scanning her as he bit his lip.

“I should go.” Gordo’s voice was soft and sweet and, she thought, maybe a touch regretful. With a burst of energy she hadn’t expected she reached out and placed a hand on his knee to still him.

“Please don’t go.” She said with quiet urgency. She knew she was borderline begging but couldn’t stop as the words continued to fall from her lips. “I feel horrible and you- you make me feel better.”

She bit her lip and lifted her hand away from his knee as she felt a warm flush spread up her neck and into her cheeks. Now she knew for sure that there was a delay between her brain and her body as she screamed at herself to look away but couldn’t bring herself to do so. She watched as the obvious wheels in his head spun and he silently debated with himself.

Finally he sighed and turned the chair back towards her. “Ok. I’ll stay. But you’re supposed to be reading this book.”

“How am I supposed to read it when I can barely stay awake for this conversation?” She said with a scowl as she pulled her blanket closer around her and snuggled into its warm embrace.

He pondered her question for a moment before dropping his shoulders in a resolute sigh. He kicked off his shoes, turned the chair, and swung his feet up onto the bed beside her knees, one ankle crossed over the other. Lizzie watched him in bewilderment as he settled in and opened the book onto his lap.

“If you can’t read then I guess I’m just going to have to read to you.”

Lizzie’s mouth dropped slightly as his own opened to begin the tale. “I’m not a child, Gordo.”

He turned to look at her and once more she saw the soft, sweet smile he’d given her a few moments before. “I know you aren’t. But I hate seeing you like this and if reading this book to you is something I can do to help you feel better, to help take care of you, I’d like to do that.”

For a moment they held each others gaze. Although Lizzie was not fond of the idea of what equated to being read a bedtime story by her best friend, she couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through her at his words. Finally she nodded gently as she snuggled deeper under the covers. “Thank you.”

Gordo nodded and turned back to the book in his hands. He cleared his throat and began, “Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies’ eardrops, and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of old Cuthbert place…”

Lizzie felt her eyelids growing heavy as Gordo’s calm voice filled her head and rocked her gently to sleep. His words were a warm blanket, wrapping her in comfort against her illness. She tried to fight against the pull of sleep but as darkness embraced her she sent out a little bit of thanks to Patient Zero.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one today. A bit of transition before the next chapter that is already sitting at over 3,000 words.

The bedroom was dark and Gordo’s chair empty when Lizzie’s eyes fluttered open later that evening. For a moment she simply stared at the chair, a piece of her willing her friend to reappear as if out of thin air. When the house remained silent and her wish went unfulfilled she finally pushed herself up into a seated position, taking a second to breathe deeply in preparation for the expected upset stomach that had been accompanying her throughout this illness. A beat passed, and then another, and with them came the surprise that her stomach was fine. On the contrary, she was surprised by the pain of hunger that coursed through her. For the first time, in what felt like days, she was actually hungry. She only hoped she’d be able to keep whatever she ate in her stomach where it belonged. 

The late autumn sun had already set and moonlight was streaming through her curtains and across her room. One long finger of moonlight ran across her bed and over to her bedside table where it fell upon a closed book and folded piece of paper. _That’s right,_ she thought, _Anne of Green Gables._ She must have fallen asleep almost instantaneously as she couldn’t even remember Gordo finishing the first sentence of the story. Moving slowly as not to jostle her currently settled stomach she turned and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She flicked on her lamp and opened the paper Gordo had left resting on the book. 

_You were asleep by the end of page one! Page one! I think you’ll have to read this one on your own if you can’t stay awake for me to read it to you. I’ll come by again tomorrow and maybe we can try again?_

_Gordo_

_P.S. Miranda called, told her you were sleeping. She’ll try again tomorrow._

Lizzie bit her lip as she grinned at the piece of paper. She loved her friends, they really did take very good care of her. A glance at her alarm clock told her it was nearly ten o’clock. With any luck her parents would still be awake and happy to put together a bit of food for their favorite, very sick child. 

After a quick trip to the restroom to brush her teeth she quietly made her way past Matt’s room and down the stairs to the kitchen. Her movements were sluggish, the sandbags seemingly still attached to each limb, and every so often she felt the world begin to tilt as the dizzying sensation of vertigo hit her. More than once she had to stop on the stairs to place a hand against her head as she felt the world twist and turn.

“Lizzie, what are you doing up?” Her mother called from the sofa. Jo quickly switched off the television and met her at the bottom of the stairs. “Careful now, I got you.”

“I thought I was hungry.” Lizzie said softly, taking a moment to assess her stomach and head now that she was off the stairs. “Now I’m not so sure.”

Jo rested her cheek against her daughter’s forehead briefly before placing a quick kiss against it. “Well, you don’t feel warm anymore. Do you think you could eat a piece of bread?”

Lizzie nodded gently and allowed her mother to lead her to the sofa she’d just vacated. Jo wrapped a blanket tightly around her before heading into the kitchen. Lizzie leaned her head back against the cushions and closed her eyes, allowing her mind to wander over the events of the afternoon. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could still hear hear Gordo’s gentle voice lulling her to sleep. He’d soothed the pounding in her head and brought rest she hadn’t felt since first falling ill. In truth, she shouldn’t have been surprised. After seventeen years of friendship they’d had their fair share of comforting each other through broken bones, chicken pox, colds and broken hearts.

An image of a five-year-old Gordo with a broken arm came to her then and Lizzie chuckled as she let the memory fill her mind. He’d fallen off the slide at daycare and screamed like he was dying. Lizzie had been so upset over her friend’s pain that the teachers had thought she’d been injured as well. Both sets of parents had been called and Sam McGuire had been forced to take Lizzie to the hospital right along with Gordo so she could stay by his side. Later Gordo would save a special spot on his cast just for Lizzie’s illegible five-year-old signature.

Through every scrape, scratch, and illness she and Gordo had been there for each other. But something had been different tonight, she thought. It wasn’t just that Gordo was trying to cheer her up, he was actually going out of his way to take care of her. Lizzie felt her stomach clench in a not-completely unpleasant way as she considered the casual intimacy of reading to someone. It was something that parents did for their kids before bed, or perhaps lovers in a park, curled up on a picnic blanket and reciting poetry on a warm summer day. This was something new, different. Certainly not bad by any means, just… _different_.

“Here,” Jo’s voice interrupted her thoughts, “try this. Don’t push yourself to eat if you can’t though.”

Lizzie took the plain buttered toast and hazarded a small bite, it was rough against her already dry mouth but it felt good to chew something. It also seemed to soak up the remaining taste of sick in her throat as she swallowed it down and for that alone she was grateful. She managed four bites before her body was almost too tired to keep chewing, the piece of bread suddenly feeling as heavy as a brick in her hand. She barely registered her mother taking the toast from her and placing it on a plate on the coffee table but she did manage to sigh happily as Jo then pulled her against her side and into a warm embrace.

“That was really sweet of Gordo to come check on you.” Her mother said so softly that Lizzie wondered if she’d spoken at all. She gave a small noise of agreement and nodded into her mother’s shoulder. “He stayed by your side for awhile. Even after you’d fallen asleep.”

“Really? He left a note saying I fell asleep on page one of _Anne of Green Gables_.”

Jo laughed softly and placed her cheek against the top of her daughter’s head. “That’s what he told me too. But he kept on reading anyway. Just in case you woke up again, I think. I finally had to send him home when he started to fall asleep in that chair.”

Lizzie laughed quietly as she pictured her friend falling asleep with her book on his chest, much like her own father did with one of his Gnome Sweet Gnome magazines. “He’s really too good to me.” She finally said softly as the pull of sleep began to overwhelm her. 

“I hope you’ve thought about why that is.”

Again, her mother’s voice was so quiet, so gentle Lizzie thought she was imagining it. Still, the thought wound its way through and around her senses and repeated itself in a quiet mantra as she fell asleep once more.


	3. Chapter 3

The following morning found Lizzie wide awake with a stomach full of buttered toast and a glass of juice. While she still lacked the energy to walk more than a few feet without swaying, and sometimes her head felt too heavy to hold up for much longer, she’d managed to eat her plain but delicious breakfast and it was sitting calmly in her stomach. Progress. A small amount, but progress all the same.

Tired of spending all day in bed Lizzie had convinced her mother to build her a little bed of pillows and blankets on her window-seat. She sat there now, her legs pulled up against her chest and her arms crossed over her knees. She gazed longingly out her window at the beautiful fall day just beyond her reach. The sun was shining and she could tell from the rustle of the browning leaves that a gentle breeze would caress her skin if she’d been allowed outside.

She picked up the copy of _Anne and Green Gables_ that was resting at her feet. For a moment she glared at it as if it was the source of her problems. Although her mother had allowed her out of bed she was still stuck to the confines of her room. ( _What if you fall down the stairs and we aren’t home?_ ) _All the more reason for a television in my room,_ Lizzie grumbled to herself and stuck out her lip though there was no one here to see her pout. Not now with her family at work or school and all of her friends happy and healthy at Hillridge High. She looked at the clock with a grimace. Six hours until her mom was home, seven until school was finally out. With a final frustrated sigh she opened the book to page one and began to read.

* * *

“Lizzie?” Came a soft, prodding voice at the door. “You awake?”

“Co-Come in.” Lizzie called out as she wiped furiously at her cheeks.

Gordo pushed the door open before glancing around the room, his eyes finally finding her in her bed of blankets and pillows on the window-seat.

“Your mom- Lizzie, what is it? What’s wrong?” In a moment he was across the room and by her side as she broke down into sobs once more. Lizzie brought her hands to her face and weeped into them. She felt Gordo wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her into his side as his other hand lifted to her hands to gently pull them away from her face.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” He said softly. “It’s okay.”

They sat there together, Gordo whispering words of comfort as Lizzie fought against the tears with deep, steadying breaths. Eventually she dropped her hands from her face, wiping a few tears away as she did so. Gordo lifted his head from hers and placed a soft hand against her cheek to turn her towards him. Using the pad of his thumb he wiped away a stray tear as it fell.

“Do you want to talk about it? I can call Miranda for you if you’d like.” 

Lizzie shook her head violently in response, causing his hand to fall away from her cheek. “No, no it’s okay. I’m okay. I’m… it’s…” She let out an exasperated sigh at her stumbled words and picked up the book she’d thrown on to the floor. “It’s this stupid, stupid book! How did Ms. Caruso think this was supposed to make me feel better! It’s horrible!”

She placed the book in Gordo’s open hand and watched as he flipped through some of the pages. His forehead creased in thought and she almost laughed. It almost looked like he was glaring at the book, demanding of it to know what it had done to upset his friend to the point of tears. Lizzie felt a strange sensation of care flood through her as she watched her best friend. He was always so ready to defend her, stick up for her, even against inanimate objects it appeared. Without thinking she leaned her head onto his shoulder and let her body relax against his side. If Gordo minded he didn’t show any signs.

Eventually he gave up with his silent interrogation of the offending novel. Apparently its written words not giving up whatever they had said to upset his friend so. He placed the book beside him on the window-seat before dropping his cheek to the top of Lizzie’s head.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked gently.

For a moment Lizzie didn’t speak. What would he say, think, if she told him how horribly the book had affected her? He’d probably laugh her right off to the loony bin. It was just a story after all. No reason to be so upset. Still, he’d never laughed at her before. Well, not when it mattered at least. And right now, curled up against his side with tears falling down her cheeks, it really, really mattered. 

She nodded against his shoulder before lifting her head and turning to face him fully. “There should be a warning label on that book. Read it with a box of tissues! Don’t read it when you’ve been horribly sick and on an emotional roller-coaster. Everything was fine in the beginning. But… but then Matthew…” Lizzie felt a sob welling up in her throat once and she fought to speak around it, “And then there was Gilbert! And he’s just so good! Giving up all of that for Anne!”

Gordo chuckled and for a moment Lizzie thought she had been wrong to tell him any of this. But when she looked at him she could see the worry still lining his features as he reached out a hand to her cheek. She felt her breath catch as he wiped away the new fresh wave of tears.

“You’re going to have to slow down, Liz.” He said with a gentle plea. “I haven’t read the book. Take a breath, talk to me.”

Lizzie nodded and closed her eyes as she took slow, calming breaths. Gordo was still caressing her cheekbone with his thumb, wiping away the tears that silently fell. She focused on the feeling, his warmth against her cheek, and felt the grip around her heart slowly relinquishing its hold. When she finally lifted her gaze to his she could almost imagine feeling her heart stop as she took in the worried look on his face. He was open and bare to her then and she wondered if she appeared just as so to him.

“You okay?” His voice was soft, just a whisper on the air between them.

_Okay_? Lizzie thought and fought against the knot in her throat. What was _okay_? Her stomach was all aflutter and she had a feeling it had nothing to do with the flu that still ravaged her body. At a loss for words she finally settled on nodding.

“Now, in complete sentences, tell me about this book.” He pointed an accusatory finger at the offending object. “What’s wrong with it?”

Lizzie sniffled and bit her lip for a moment trying to figure out how to explain. “It’s not that anything is wrong with it. It’s actually very good. But, don’t ever let Ms. Caruso hear me say that.” She said with a glare and Gordo lifted his hand up in a swearing of his agreement. “Anne is really lovely. I wish I had been like her growing up. She’s confident and spunky and, yeah, she gets into trouble all of the time, but she always manages to find a way out of it.” She was on a roll now, the words coming easier as she forgot to breathe between her sentences once more. 

“Everyone loves her. Especially Gilbert. But then she’s also so stupidly stubborn and doesn’t realize that he’s head over heels crazy about her and she ends up ignoring him for years until finally Matthew… Matth- until something horrible happens and Gilbert saves the day and Anne finally sees what a good friend he really is. And how could she not have noticed? She was his world and she just didn’t know!” She took a breath then as she flung her hands out into the air in frustration. “And then the ending! How can you end a book like that? There’s no closure. Just pain! Gilbert’s still hopelessly in love with Anne and he just has to suffer like that for the rest of his life? Isn’t Anne supposed to realize he’s the one and fall in love right back? At least that’s what would happen in a story from this century.”

Lizzie felt her vision fading and Gordo’s arm around her again as she began to tip into his side. She lifted a hand to her head as if she could stop the room from spinning if she held it still. Maybe that had been a bit to fast, too much energy at once for a body barely able to stand just yet. 

The room went silent then except for her sniffling. She glanced up at Gordo, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she waited for his laughter or his teasing. Deep down she knew he wouldn’t but he’d been silent for her ranting and didn’t appear to have anything to say now either. He just sat there, a familiar look of contemplation across his features. 

Finally Lizzie lifted her head from Gordo’s shoulder and turned until she was facing him. When her back was flush against the wall she pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She continued to watch her friend for a few moments until the silence became too much to bare. “Gordo?” She prodded softly. “Did uh, did I go to fast?” 

Gordo jumped though her voice had been barely louder than a whisper. He twisted his hands in front of him as he chuckled softly. “Sorry, yes. Wow.” He said as he stood from the window-seat and began to pace about the room. “That is a lot. I can see why you would be so, um, emotional about it.”

“Right?” She exclaimed with a wave of her hands. “There’s got to be a sequel, right? That can’t just be how the story ends? There’s got to be a happy ending for them. You want to be a film director, right? Is that how you’d let Anne and Gilbert’s story end?”

She looked up at Gordo with almost pleading eyes. Throughout her entire life she could always depend on Gordo to know the answer. She was positive he’d have this one. Unfortunately, as he continued to pace the room, he simply raked a hand through his hair and shrugged.

“I don’t know, Lizzie. Sometimes there are no happy endings. And sometimes,” He swallowed hard before continuing, “sometimes you just have to wait, and hope that people figure it out. Gilbert may have saved the day, he may be in love with Anne, but she has to come to the decision on her own as to whether or not she loves him back.”

“So then why isn’t that in the book?” Lizzie huffed as she leaned her head back against the wall. For a girl that had felt nothing but ill for the past day and a half this was far too many emotions to try to process at once. Her stomach hurt and her head ached and she wasn’t sure what she could blame those feelings on anymore. She pressed her fingertips against her temple and began to rub in small circles. “I’m starting to not feel so hot.”

Gordo was across her room and by her door by the time she’d finished speaking. “I’ll let you get some rest. I’ll leave your homework with your mom on my way out.”

“Wait, Gordo, that’s not what I-”

“It’s fine. I forgot I had something I needed to do anyway.” He said with a touch of regret. “I was only able to stop by for a few minutes and make sure you were doing okay.” With a stiff smile and nod of his head he was gone, the bedroom door shutting firmly behind him.

_What was that all about?_

* * *

“And then he just left.” Lizzie exclaimed as she dropped her hands to the bed in frustration. “Why are boys so weird?”

Jo gave her daughter a pointed look before clearing her throat and reaching for the box of tissues next to her daughter. She held it out and waited for Lizzie to take one before speaking.

“I don’t know what to tell you, honey. You know Gordo better than anyone. Can you think of anything you said that would have upset him?”

“No! Of course not! I told him about the book, about how upset I was about Gilbert and then he just said he forgot he had something to do and left.” Lizzie shrugged as she began to tear apart the tissue in her hands. “Maybe I’m just reading into it. This flu has got my head all fuzzy.”

“Maybe, or maybe not. I’m sorry, Lizzie but I don’t think I can help you with this one. Perhaps you just need to process things a bit more.”

Lizzie quirked an eyebrow as she turned her gaze back to her mother. “Process? Process what? All I did was complain about a stupid book.”

Jo simply shrugged as she stood and adjusted her daughter’s blankets. “Maybe that’s part of what you need to think about. Why is this book effecting you so strongly?” She leaned over and placed a kiss against Lizzie’s forehead. “Are you hungry? I’ll bring you some toast.”

As her mother left the room Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest in frustration. It’s just a stupid book. It’s homework. It shouldn’t be effecting her so badly. So, why was it?

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd. Please let me know if there are mistakes!


End file.
